Thursday 28 March 2013

First Love

Sunrise. Salt.  And so we met.
Music. Midnight. And we moved.
Pigeons. Pockets. And we hid.
Swings. Sweat. And we danced.
Distance. Dampness. And we ran.
Football. Facade. Drew new lines and overstepped.
Cake. Closet. Hid beneath the sheets.
Secrets. Slippers. Tore at promises and all that bothered.
Grass. Gullies.  Tread on each other’s feet.
Lips. Light. Raised bars, chased cars.
Stories. Sunburn. And we were left untold.
Rain. Red. And we tasted the gods.
Words. Walks. Stranded at crossroads.
Blanks. Books. And we were empty.
Dates. Dogs. Fancifully fed.
Nails. Nests. We drove into walls.
Goats. Gates. Bled together, sharpened swords.
Laughter. Letters. We wrote ourselves anew. 
Toothbrush. Terrace. And we fell off beds.
Skirt. Sofa. Lay quiet under rustling leaves, shouting guards. 
Buses. Binoculars. Tied ourselves to rocks and jumped.
Guitar. Games. Bruised and bumbled.
Movies. Metro. We flashed in motion pictures.
Album. Arms. And green strawberries.
Shower. Shade. Swirled jam and cradled water.
Orange. Over-bridge. Freshly baked, burnt and spared.
Petals. Pulse. And we played to the beat.
Fury. Fantasies. And the bubble burst.
Cricket. Cats. We blew a new one.
Finding Neverland. Here we go again.


  1. Replies
    1. If I am able to make you feel even a fraction of what it is like I'd be beyond thrilled.

  2. how long do you take to write them?

    i mean its so related and yet so unrelated one cant imagine whether its river water flowing or the water from a damn being passed along with such perfect control that it is that is you.

    1. This one was saved in my drafts for a while but I wasn't satisfied with it. First loves are sacred topics. Always too scared to do them injustice. Then suddenly something struck a chord. Changed the whole thing and put it up.

    2. Always too scared to do them injustice.

      its the one reason i try to stay away from writing anything about her.

      and as for first loves... boy i would like to hear your story someday.